


Of Monsters And Men

by fiveainley_ohmy



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Goth Opera, It's kind of sweet but with really cheesy porn, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, This fic sucks so bad but it is mine, Vampire!Five, Werewolf!Master, it's basically Twilight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-02
Updated: 2016-03-02
Packaged: 2018-05-24 07:16:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6145831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiveainley_ohmy/pseuds/fiveainley_ohmy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on Paul Cornell's "Goth Opera". The Fifth Doctor, turned vampire, is living a life of exile of a barren planet. But is he as isolated as he thinks?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Monsters And Men

Blood. The sound of it coursing through the veins of his victim as its heart rate sped up in fear, its red sheen gleaming in the full moon’s light as it spilled out of the doe’s jugular vein. But most of all, the smell. Salty, meaty, warm. _Alive_. The smell was what drove him mad the most.

The Doctor sucked the life expertly out of his prey, spilling no blood on his clothes, then tossed the deer carcass aside. He prayed that this female had no young, dependent fawns that would now suffer due to their mother’s absence. He licked his fangs, relishing the last of the tangy, metallic juice. The doe’s blood would keep him satisfied. For now.

The Doctor, bitten by a deranged Time Lady, an old schoolmate of his obsessed with the immortal, had fought the hunger for blood admirably for weeks. He told himself that he could control his new, murderous, primal instincts, but finally, when he nearly fed on his young companion, he could lie to himself no more. He dropped her off and had his TARDIS leave him on a planet where game was plenty, and where he knew no human, Time Lord, or other intelligent organism would tread. He hated himself for what he had become, and swore never to hurt anyone as long as he lived. And for a Time Lord, that was a very long time indeed.

A long time full of loneliness, the Doctor thought to himself sadly.

Still, he thought back to his old tutor on Gallifrey, K’Anpo, who had thrived on solitude. Perhaps the Doctor could come to appreciate it in time.

Little did he know, fate had other ideas in mind.

* * *

It was on that night that the Doctor, on the way back to his little wooden shanty in the middle of the great forest, heard a stick snap behind him. With his keen vampire senses, the Doctor could hear a nose sniffing, tracking him. He could hear thudding footsteps, or paws, thumping against the sod as the creature grew closer. He could sense a racing heartbeat.

The Doctor whirled around to see a large animal, almost invisible in the light of the moon, with only a telling glint of its golden eyes, standing a few yards away from him. The animal’s legs were bent slightly, its tail erect. It was watching him eerily, as if studying him.

The Doctor hissed at it, exposing his fangs. The wolf took a step backward, growling in warning. The Doctor had seen wolves before in this wood, but none quite so… _big_ as this one, nor as…aware. The wolf was still observing him, not in a predatory way, but more in an analytical manner, as if studying him. The Doctor could almost swear the wolf knew him from somewhere.

The wolf carefully crept closer. The Doctor held his ground, knowing he could probably win if it came to a fight. But then, when the wolf got about five feet from him… _the smell_. The Doctor fought back the urge to gag. The wolf smelled awful. He smelled like a wet dog that had rolled around in a landfill of rotting flesh. The Doctor had to stop breathing altogether when the wolf finally drew up to him (being a vampire, breathing was not necessary except for hunting, and beside that, as a Time Lord, he’d naturally been born with the ability of respiratory bypass).

The wolf cautiously sniffed his hand. He whimpered slightly, nuzzling his snout against the Doctor’s fingers. The Doctor found himself kneeling to pet the large dog. It had been a long time since the Doctor had experienced any affection of any kind. So even if he received it from this creature, he was grateful for any at all.

The wolf hummed contented as the Doctor scratched him behind the ears. The Doctor chuckled to himself. Well…why not get himself a dog? He’d once had one, albeit the robotic variety. A little company might be a welcome change to this awful seclusion he’d subjected himself to. He drew his arms up around the massive dog in a hug, with the wolf settling his head into the crook of the Doctor’s neck. “Come on, boy,” the Doctor whispered, surprised at the sound of his own voice. It’d been awhile since he’d had reason to use it. “I’ve got a nice little house in the trees there. It’s warm and comfortable, you’ll like it.”

The wolf yipped affirmatively, and the Doctor chuckled, standing and beckoning for the animal to follow. Wagging its tail, the wolf padded alongside the Doctor as they tread through the forest, their path enlightened by the moon. Soon, they came to the Doctor’s small shack, where there was a small wood burning stove for boiling water for the Doctor’s baths, a small, comfortable bed, and a little library and lab station for doing experiments.

“Sorry there aren’t any windows,” the Doctor apologized to the wolf as he shut the door. “I can’t have the sunlight bleeding through during the day time. Burns my skin, you know. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a vampire.”

The wolf stared at him with large, ochre colored eyes, his neck and pointy ears perked up, as if in shock. The Doctor lit a small kerosene lamp and saw that, indeed, the wolf was black as night, and large as he had seemed in the forest, larger than most of the few that the Doctor had seen running about, and none of them had smelled nearly as bad as this one. The Doctor hung up his coat, slipped off his trainers, and climbed into bed. “Well, the sun will be up soon, and since I do tend to sleep during the day…well, if you need anything, food, water, let me know and I’ll see what I can do. Oh, you need a place to sleep, don’t you? Well, in front of the stove is nice and warm-oh,” said the Doctor as the wolf climbed onto his bed and settled at the foot of it. “Well…alright. Good night.”

The wolf nosed the Doctor’s foot in response, then closed his eyes, and promptly went to sleep.

“How extraordinary,” the Doctor murmured. “This creature seems to understand everything I say. I’d almost say he’s of a higher intelligence! I must perform some tests tomorrow to see the extent of his knowledge. But for now…” The Doctor yawned. “Sleep.”

It was only a few hours from sunset when the Doctor awakened. He sat up, eager to spend time with his new friend, but he found the wolf gone. The Doctor was disappointed, but he expected the wolf had simply gone outside and would come back soon enough.

The wolf did not.

The Doctor was sad. He thought he’d finally found a friend.

He looked at his door and realized something. It was shut. The wolf could have probably nosed his way outside, but the thing was, the door opened inward. The wolf would have had to pull it shut behind him, which was nearly impossible for an organism without opposable appendages.

“Curiouser and curiouser,” the Doctor murmured.

* * *

Days and nights passed, but the Doctor saw neither claw nor hair of his furry friend. Until, that was, about a month later.

The Doctor was tracking a wild hog when he heard a far off howl. He cast his eyes around and caught sight of a hulking, furry, familiar figure perched on a cliff, head thrown back, baying to the wide yellowish-white orb in the sky.

“Is that…?” the Doctor wondered to himself. He turned tail and began racing toward the figure. When he reached the ledge, he could see that the wolf’s coat was black as coal. “Here, boy!” the Doctor called, getting to one knee.

The wolf turned around. Its yellow eyes lit up in recognition, and it dashed toward him, knocking him over. The Doctor laughed as the wolf happily nuzzled his neck. “Good boy!” he said, petting the dog’s thick fur. “Come on. Let’s go catch us a pig. I’m famished.”

Together, the vampire and the wolf cornered the sow and feasted on it, the Doctor slicing open its neck with his sharp teeth and draining it dry, and the wolf happily gnawing on its femur. Then they headed home together.

“Where did you wander off to, hmm?” the Doctor asked the big dog, stretched out beside him on the small bed, stroking his dark fur while the wolf nodded off. “And why are you so big? And why…”

The Doctor drifted off to sleep before he could finish the question. As before, when the Doctor woke up, the wolf was gone, with the door of the shack tightly closed behind him.

It was approximately another thirty days before the Doctor saw his wolf friend again. The Doctor, who had once been one of the brightest at the Academy, was beginning to notice a pattern. The wolf only appeared to him on the nights in which the moon was in full phase. That night, when the Doctor and his wolf returned to their little house, the Doctor was determined to find out what was happening to his furry companion. So, when the wolf fell asleep, the Doctor pretended to, too. And he waited.

The Doctor knew the sun was rising outside-he could sense it-and he heard the wolf stirring. He carefully cracked his eyes open.

The wolf had hopped down onto the floor of the shack and was hunched over, as if going to be sick. The Doctor thought to get up to see if he could help him, but remained still. He watched him through his eyelashes.

Suddenly the wolf shuddered. His body was… _changing_. The thick fur on his body seemed to be growing in reverse, back into his flesh, which was turning a humanlike, peach color, close to the Doctor’s. The paws were growing into hands with fingers, and feet with toes. His tail receded into his backside, and his snout shrank into a round nose and a pair of well shaped lips. His ears became round and on either side of his head, rather than on top, and there was a healthy patch of hair, admittedly mussed, growing from his scalp.

The wolf-turned-man rose from the floor and dusted himself off. The Doctor squeezed his eyes shut as the man turned around and very lightly kissed his forehead, then turned to go.

The Doctor’s eyes opened once more as he heard the door open and shut. “No, wait!” he exclaimed, jumping out of bed and racing out the door after him. “Wait, come back-ahh!” he seethed in pain as the early morning sunlight, shining through the trees, scorched his skin, and the Doctor clenched his eyes shut.

“Doctor, no!” Strong hands took a hold of him and dragged him back into the shelter. They made him sit down on the bed. “That was stupid of you!” the man gently admonished, checking him for serious burns.

The Doctor opened his eyes. The man was kneeling in front of him, his eyes-which were not gold, but grayish blue-raked over him concernedly. “I’m sorry,” he apologized. “But I had to know where you were going. I suppose I’m foolish for not realizing you were a werewolf,” the Doctor cursed himself. “I did notice I only saw you on the night of the full moon, but I didn’t make the connection…look, I thought I was the only one on this planet. Who are you? And…hang on, how did you know my name? I never told you that.”

The man chuckled warmly. “Doctor, I always know who you are. I’m merely surprised that you do not know who I am. Then again, I’m not currently in a Time Lord body, and it has been a few regenerations for you, hasn’t it.” He looked over the Doctor again, smiling both coyly and affectionately.

“Hold on a minute,” said the Doctor. “You know who I am? And did you say ‘Time Lord’? You’re a Time Lord?”

“Biologically speaking, no. I was at the end of my twelfth regeneration and, desperate to extend my life, took the body of a Trakenite councilman-the father of your former companion Nyssa, I believe.”

The Doctor stared into the man’s face. “Tremas?” he gasped, shocked. He hadn’t recognized him, for the man in front of him now was much younger than the Traken scientist he’d known shortly.

“It was,” said the man. “But I’m afraid Tremas’s soul has long departed this mortal flesh.”

“Then who are you?” the Doctor asked. “And how do you know me?”

The man again laughed. “Oh, my dear Doctor. I’ve known you since we were children. Think hard,” he coaxed, noting the Doctor’s continuing confusion. “Look at me. You were always a bright boy, dear Theta. Surely you can figure it out.”

The Doctor looked deep into those perplexing blue eyes long and hard. Finally, realization washed over him. “Kos?” he breathed, his eyebrows shooting up.

The Master smiled. “Wonderful, my old friend. Your mind always was your best feature.”

“But…but I haven’t seen you since you were in league with the Daleks!” the Doctor exclaimed. “Romana told me you were dead! How ever did you end up here? And as a-”

“Werewolf?” the Master supplied. “It appears to be hardwired into the Trakenite genetic makeup. I traveled the entire cosmos trying to find a cure, but there’s no rewriting DNA. Not like that.”

“I don’t understand,” said the Doctor confusedly. “Nyssa never changed into a wolf.”

“It appears to be only a trait the males possess,” the Master replied. “I suppose it’s my penance for taking a body that’s not mine.”

“Quite right, I should say!” the Doctor couldn’t help but say. But then, he added, “however, I am glad to know you’re alive, Master. Despite the manner in which you extended your lifespan.”

The Master smiled in pleasant surprise. “Well, I must say I expected more of a tongue lashing from you. After all, the last we saw of each other, the rapport between us was quite damaged.”

“You tried to shoot me,” the Doctor pouted.

“You were trying to capture me.”

“Correction: I was trying to protect the Earth from an incursion of genocidal pepper pots.”

“Exactly why I missed on purpose.” The Master grinned toothily.

The Doctor blushed. The Master was right. He was a genius with trajectories. The Master would have known the exact angle at which to shoot the Doctor to where he would never regenerate again. If the Master had wanted to shoot him, he would’ve shot him.

“So tell me how you became a vampire,” the Master beseeched.

So the Doctor iterated his encounter with their old schoolmate, Ruathadvorophrenaltid, insane and hell bent on converting the entirety of the human race into vampires. She’d also wanted for him to change and become her official consort, so that they could rule vampirekind together, and the Doctor had allowed her to convert him so that he could appear to support her and play for time. Time, however, had not been on his side. He’d managed to save the human race, and even his companion Nyssa, who’d been infected in the process, but the clock had run out on the Doctor. Ruath eventually died, but after the window of opportunity for the Doctor to convert back had closed. He was past the point of no return, and stuck as a vampire permanently.

The Master listened patiently, and for so long, the Doctor was beginning to wonder if the Master’s knees were getting tired, because he was _still_ kneeling on the ground between his legs, not to mention _stark naked_ , because obviously when one phases in and out of wolf form, one’s clothing do not simply pop in and out of existence, and he wasn’t sure if the Master was aware that he had his hand on the top of one of the Doctor’s thighs. Oh dear. That’s not where the Doctor’s mind meant to meander at all. Nor did it mean to take note of how _exquisite_ the Master looked. Thankfully, as the transformation had happened, his horrible odor had greatly diluted, and the Doctor could breathe free once again. His hair was fine and thick, his lashes long, his shoulders wide and his biceps well developed. His chest and forearms were covered in a light dusting of tiny black hairs (the same as the ones making up his moustache and infernal goatee that he insisted upon growing in every regeneration), which the Doctor supposed is where the Master’s wolf form took its fur’s hue from, because the hair on his head was dark brown. In short, the Master was unbearably handsome. Of course, he always was, and the Doctor didn’t think he was too bad looking himself, but…oh, it wasn’t fair.

“After I left Nyssa on Earth with her friend Tegan-and between you and me, I think they were something of a _thing_ -I packed up a few essentials from my TARDIS and stranded myself here, where I couldn’t hurt anyone,” the Doctor concluded.

The Master shook his head, chuckling darkly. “It’s no wonder about Ruath. She always did have something of an obsession with the occult. We should have seen this coming eons ago. However, my dear Doctor, I am surprised you didn’t take her up on her offer. Mad, wicked, dastardly-exactly your type.”

The Doctor blushed. “Not exactly my type. It was all too dark, too apocalyptic. I prefer my villains’ evil schemes to have a bit more whimsy to them. Such as summoning the Devil and asphyxiating people with plastic daffodils.” He smiled teasingly.

“You’re being coy, Doctor. It’s not very cricket of you,” the Master smirked.

“Turnabout is fair play,” the Doctor replied archly. “And how would you even know what cricket is? It’s a game played primarily on a planet you despise with a passion.”

“Well, some dolt stole the dematerialization circuit from my TARDIS and trapped me on Earth in the 1970s. Or ‘80s, I can’t be sure. I had to do _something_ with myself.”

The Doctor grinned like the bastard he was. “And as I see, you’ve gone native again.”

“I’ve gone native again,” the Master repeated evenly. “I’m not sure what it was, but something inside me yearned for the wild.”

The Doctor remembered the lush green flora of Traken and nodded, understandingly. “It’s been lonely, though.”

“For me, as well. I suppose we took our UNIT days for granted,” the Master remarked.

The Doctor smiled ruefully, remembering. “Yes, well…things were complicated then, as you know.”

“Things aren’t complicated now, though,” remarked the Master.

The Doctor laughed a little. “You turn into an animal once a month and I can’t go out in the sun. It’s pretty complicated.”

“Perhaps. However, this isn’t.” The Master slid that hand that had been solidly resting on the Doctor’s thigh up and inside.

The Doctor balked. “Wha!-what are you doing?!”

“Oh, please, Doctor, I know what you’ve been thinking about this whole time. Your leg was jiggling throughout your entire story. Relax…” The Master’s fingers brushed the inseam of the Doctor’s trousers, and the Doctor felt his cock twitch in response. “I want this. I’ve always wanted this. I thought perhaps…you did too?” The Master then moaned quietly and buried his face in the Doctor’s crotch, nuzzling his inner thighs and clothed manhood, teasing him through his trousers.

The Doctor gasped. There had always been _something_ between the two of them, since they were boys, but there had always been a barrier of adolescent awkwardness, and then later on, bitter feelings, morals, anger, and most of all, hurt. At the time when the Doctor had been living on Earth and working with UNIT, he was usually protecting humanity from the Master’s evil deeds, and couldn’t allow himself to give in to what he’d always felt deep down for his fellow Time Lord. But now, everything was different. The Doctor was alone and the Master was here and they were both monsters now. Maybe…now that times were different…there could be forgiveness.

Also the Doctor was also getting very aroused.

“Ah,” said the Master triumphantly, pulling away from his enticing so he could grin up at the Doctor. “Well, it’s hardly fair that I should be without clothing alone.” He slid a hand up the Doctor’s chest. “May I?”

The Doctor, still quite lost, wordlessly nodded. The Master undid the buttons of the Doctor’s shirt and pulled it off of him. He crawled up the Doctor’s body and took him in a deep kiss, making the Doctor’s eyes go wide, then flutter shut. As his lips parted to admit the Master’s tongue (retracting his fangs so not to cut him) and his arms wound around the Master’s neck, the other Time Lord eased him up onto the bed and lay on top of him. The Master’s hand roved the Doctor’s bare chest, tracing ticklish ribs and running his fingernails lightly down the Doctor’s sides, making the Doctor gasp wildly and moan into his mouth when he rubbed his sensitive nipples. The Doctor’s legs came up to straddle the Master’s hips, his still clothed erection brushing over the Master’s bare arousal. The Master groaned and moved his hand to the Doctor’s fly, unbuttoning his pants and dipping his hand inside to close around the Doctor. The Doctor moaned loudly when the Master started stroking him. “Oh please,” he whimpered.

Fuelled by the Doctor’s praise, the Master laughed in his throat and broke away so he could kiss downward. Then he pulled the Doctor’s trousers off of his legs and took him in his mouth.

“Oh! Oh, God-” the Doctor stammered, his back arching slightly. The Master serenely bobbed his head up and down on the Doctor’s cock, relishing the Doctor coming undone for him. The Doctor, above, was utterly lost. One of his hands found its way to the back of the Master’s head; the other tightly clenched the thin sheets of his cot. “M-m-master- _please_ -make love to me,” the Doctor choked out. “I…I can’t-”

The Master held back a moan as he pulled off of the Doctor. He knew what the Doctor meant. His own cock felt heavy as stone, and just as hard. But neither of them wanted to finish this already.

The Doctor craned his head to look at him. “Over there-on my lab station-”

The Master got up from the bed and found some salve the Doctor most likely used for when he accidentally got burned from the sunlight. He quickly grabbed the jar and came back over to the bed. “Turn over, my dear,” he coaxed the Doctor.

The Doctor got to his hands and knees and the Master, almost trembling, insert a slicked finger inside him. Then another, then another. The Master soon had the Doctor well stretched for him. The Master got some more salve on his hands and slathered it all over himself. He couldn’t help but just run his hand up and down his length for a moment. The Doctor was right in front of him, ready and waiting and so, so beautiful. The Doctor looked back at him in expectation, his facial expression a mirror all of the Master’s current emotions: excitement. Anticipation. Giddiness. Arousal. Fear.

The Master shuddered and positioned himself at the Doctor’s entrance. “Ready?” he whispered.

“Yes. Please, Master,” the Doctor said.

The Master moaned at the sound of his own title as he slid inside the Doctor smoothly, coming to rest inside him. The Doctor also made a noise as the Master filled him completely. His eyes rolled back in his head in bliss. “Oh, Master, yes, please-”

The Master drew a sharp gasp from the Doctor as he pulled himself out and pushed back in swiftly. He reached up under the Doctor and squeezed his cock, blood-flushed, straining, and lovely. He swept the pad of his thumb over the Doctor’s head, already damp with arousal.

“ _Ohhhhh_ …” The Doctor moaned, his head dropping to the mattress. “Master…fuck me.”

And the Master did. He was as gentle as possible, but Rassilon, if the Doctor wasn’t one to encourage a little roughness. By the end, the Master was slamming himself in, his fingers gripping the Doctor’s shoulders hard enough to leave bruises, the Doctor screaming with delight. He’d left bite marks all over the back of the Doctor’s neck. The irony of their position wasn’t lost on the Doctor. The Master was a werewolf, and there they were, making love, as the humans would describe it, “doggy style”. The Doctor soon found himself thrusting backward into the Master, who rewarded him by stroking his cock faster.

“Theta.” The Master’s voice was low and raspy. “Come for me.”

The Master’s thumb pressed just the right spot behind the Doctor’s balls, driving him over the edge. The Doctor climaxed hard, throwing his head back, crying out the Master’s name loudly, and continued to whimper all the way through his aftershocks. The Master moaned at all the Doctor’s lovely, wanton noises and came as well. Both of them shaking from their tumultuous orgasms, the Master, breathing hard, pulled out of the Doctor and fell down beside him on the bed.

“Oh!” said the Doctor faintly. “I think I need to lie down.”

“You are lying down,” laughed the Master.

The Doctor chuckled weakly as he turned over to face the Master. They were both tired and messy and grinning very, very big.

“Well, I…I suppose…” The Doctor paused.

“What, my dear?” the Master asked, stroking the Doctor’s hair.

“Well, I was just thinking…this might work. The two of us, being what we are, living in the same forest. Since you’re a werewolf, I won’t be tempted to feed on you. Because frankly, Master…don’t take this the wrong way…you smell.” The Doctor wrinkled his nose.

“I do?” the Master said, raising his eyebrows in surprise.

“Like a wet dog. Only worse. It’s the worst when you’re phased, but even right now, your blood repels me enough to where I could never try to drink your blood.”

“Well actually, Doctor, when I’m in wolf form…you smell too,” the Master admitted.

“Do I? What do I smell like?” the Doctor wondered.

“Like…bleach. Or ammonia. Or some kind of strong Earth cleaning chemical. But your scent only seems to offend me when I’ve phased.”

“Wolf sense of smell,” said the Doctor, tapping the Master’s nose and smiling.

“Yes, that, thank you,” said the Master, smiling back. “And for the record, Trakenite wolves are not the kind that procreate through bite. So you’re fairly safe from me.”

“Well, that’s brilliant!” said the Doctor excitedly, sitting up. “So when you’re a wolf, you won’t want to bite me, and when I’m hungry, I won’t want to suck your blood!”

The Master was about to say that, well, as long the Doctor was willing to suck something _else_ , but the Doctor suddenly looked pensive. “But what about…well, now that we know we’re both here, we can’t very well ignore each other. We don’t even have the excuse of having to avoid each other to keep each other safe. We can’t just go our separate ways, we’ll die of loneliness.” The Doctor looked down at the Master. “What do we do?”

The Master pulled the Doctor down. “First…we sleep.”

“Sleep?” asked the Doctor, settling beside him.

“Yes. Sleep. And then, when we wake up, I’ll go fetch my clothes from the cave where I’ve been living. Then, I’ll chop some firewood, you can get some water, and we’ll make supper, because I still have a normal eating pattern and from what I know of vampires, they can eat regular food. And after that…whatever needs doing. We’ll see, won’t we?”

“Are…are you suggesting we live together?” the Doctor asked, blinking with surprise.

“Do you really think living apart is better? You said it yourself, Doctor, we can’t very well avoid each other lest we die of loneliness.”

“But…but…”

“Come now, Doctor. Go to sleep.”

“But…alright.” The Doctor let himself be pulled into the Master’s strong arms and closed his eyes, focusing on the sounds of the Master’s even breathing and the beat of his heart, till he too fell under the spell of sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact, female Trakenites actually can phase, but they can control them.


End file.
